


αναιμία

by tokyonightskies



Category: DC - Fandom, Young Justice
Genre: Dick Grayson is a Vampire, Epidemic vampirism, Government Experimentation, M/M, Pseudo-Science, he becomes one, or at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 18:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokyonightskies/pseuds/tokyonightskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[…] ALERT. META-HUMANS ARE SUSCEPTIBLE FOR THE DISEASE. I REPEAT. META-HUMANS ARE SUSCEPTIBLE FOR THE DISEASE. ALE-[…]<br/>Wally has always been hungry, but this is something novel.<br/>-You didn't think you could escape, did you?</p>
            </blockquote>





	αναιμία

**Author's Note:**

> For Robin-Red-R @ Tumblr; in response to her prompt, I wrote this mutated drabble.

_[…] so far the experiments to compare samples of this, what some scientists believe to be, virus with the Sudanese ‘nodding disease’_ _¹ have shown no useful results. The hypothesis that the cause of the current pandemic in Northern-China would possibly cast a new light on the mysterious origins of the ‘nodding disease’ hasn’t been formally disproven, but the research team of the university of Munich as well as several independent laboratories have no high hopes for a medical breakthrough. […]_

Robin looks up from the report, balancing the open folder on the palm of his right hand, and determined to remain somewhat unfazed, asks, “So we’re back at square one?”

“ _No_.” Batman responds curtly, before motioning his ward to the monitor. “Although the League has sent out Superman, Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter to detain the afflicted, because of  _certain complications_  concerning the initial mission with Green Arrow.” At this, the young hero frowns in memory and averts his eyes, “We have received word of an abandoned Soviet facility near Vladivostok a while back, where experiments have been conducted in the beginning of the fifties. Cadmus used to have an interest in the buildings but were denied access by the Russian government back under Yeltsin” He exhales loudly, “The League has reason to believe this might be an important lead.”

He nods in understanding and vocally continues the line of thought, “This alleged vampirism could be somehow connected then? It’s possible that with the urbanization and the influx of Chinese immigrants over the years sped up the process.” He rubs his chin thoughtfully, “And as soon as it hit Beijing, it transformed into an epidemic. Not to mention the possible outbreaks cross-continents between sailors who stock-up at Vladivostok’ harbor…”

After tapping a few keys, Batman establishes a connection with one of the Justice League’s main satellites and a live-feed of the facility building takes over the entire flat-screen. It looks solemn; with the roof of the second building collapsed and moss growing over the walls.

"Lemme guess, you want the team to go on a covert mission?" Robin says cockily with a knowing grin, glancing at his mentor from his peripheral.

Level-headed as expected, Batman squares his shoulders, adjust his posture and replies quickly, “ _Yes._  Red Tornado has been monitoring the perimeters for a while now. Moscow has destroyed their copies of the files regarding the experiments, but we’ve come across a private journal from one of the doctors. Although it’s cryptic at best, there are some disturbing similarities between what he describes and what’s occurring right now.”

Robin flicks his gaze over the report again, dismisses his previous thoughts and asks softly, “How long did you have those files, actually?”

The sternness in those lines around Batman’s mouth disappears and he responds with a touch of gentleness in his voice, “Taken in account that the League had to argue for about ten hours with the Russian authorities _, about_  twenty-four hours.”

His ward simply nods and takes another look at the monitor, allowing the tension to slip from his spine as he relaxes his shoulders and breathes out.

_[…] Witness Y. Li from Tianjin has the following to say about the mysterious pandemic plaguing the Chinese mainland: We didn’t notice something was wrong with my brother the first few days. He looked a bit paler, didn’t eat that much. I honestly thought he had the flu. After a while… I started wishing it was the flu or the plague or cholera even! He couldn’t be in the sunlight. His eyes.. They were, red, bloodshot. He couldn’t eat and he was always hungry. I’ll never forget that evening when he was in the barn ( **translator’s note** : for simplicity’s sake I translated this word ‘_谷仓’ _as ‘barn’.) and saw him ripping apart a pig’s throat. With his bare teeth. One of those superheroes came pick him up after my mother called the police. Apparently his girlfriend had it as well. Other witness A. Wang from Xian’an remarked… […]_

Kaldur puts down the newspaper and fixes his attention to the scenery below, a jumbled mess of concrete making way for nature’s green as the suburbs of Vladivostok dwindle and are eventually left behind by the fast-moving Bioship. He knows he’s  _immune_  to this disease, or mutation depending on the source being used, but the Atlantean can’t shake a sudden surge of uneasiness at the pending mission. It’s simple enough:  _get in, get the files and get out_. Red Tornado hasn’t detected any movement around the building for a solid thirty-three hours and concerning the overall night temperature it would be impossible to stay outside for longer than three hours without getting a severe frostbite. His teammates seem to be out of their usual antics as well: Robin is diligently re-reading the Russian doctor’s journal while Kid Flash is quiet, distracted by the view outside. Artemis hasn’t made any attempts at igniting a discussion with the redhead and is counting her arrows. Conner has been sullen for a couple of days, ever since the League denied his request to help with the quarantine effort seeing as his DNA is still partly human and contamination is a possibility they’d rather avoid. Miss Martian is focused but even she cannot escape the solemn atmosphere seeping into her own demeanor.

They land several feet from the facility: it’s eerie outside and the late November chill creeps through their layers of clothes and under their skin. Kaldur can hear Wally’s teeth chattering if he chooses to focus exclusively on the sound and to block out the howling wind.

Throughout the facility, the smell of chemicals lingers, there’s dust and rubble on the hallway floors and a pile of crumpled prisoners’ clothing is left abandoned in a corner. M’gann rubs her shoulder a few times, staring nervously at the darkness ahead.

She mumbles under her breath, “There’s something here.. I can feel it.” Her pupils widen, “We should be on our guard.”

Kid Flash shakes his head, hauls a hand through his hair and groans, “ _Awesome_ , this is Keystone’s haunted house all over again.”

Grabbing her bow, Artemis steadies her posture and aims at the shadows, her gaze resting on the team leader for his signal. There’s a faint screech, high-pitched and frantic, followed by soft shuffling and those sounds make the blonde narrow her eyes and readjust the possible trajectory of her arrow. Kaldur gives a quick, sharp nod in response to the anxiety. Her arrow flits through the hallway, the tip bursts into bright light upon collision with the wall and reveals a big rat darting in their direction, frightened and agitated.

Robin cackles lowly in response to the occurrence and remarks, “That’s the end of  _that_ mystery.” He regards his teammates and smiles widely, “There shouldn’t be anything else here, com’on. According to the notes, the laboratory should be a few ro…”

He’s cut off by a figure suddenly dropping down on him from the rafters above, crushing him to the ground and violently pulling at his arctic outfit’s light-gray hood. Superboy acts quickly and surges forwards, trying to pull the creature from his younger teammate. Artemis readies another arrow and shoots the second Conner throws him to the other side. He’s quickly captured in the net, hissing and snarling at them with wild hand-gesticulation. His skin is deadly pale and wrinkled from age. Kid Flash zips to his friend and steadies him, helps him into a sitting position. Robin is holding his hand against his neck, breathing unevenly. There’s blood seeping between the lines of his gloved fingers and Wally quite  _literally sees **red**_  in front of his eyes. Kaldur and Conner have to hold him back from attacking the captured man, who growls at them with bare blood-stained teeth. Miss Martian takes Kid Flash’ place at the young boy’s side and cradles his head between the palms of her hands.

"We  _need_  to get you out of here, Robin.” She whispers, “You have to go to the quarantined zone immediately.”

In response to her statements, he slowly shakes his head, eyes wide-blown behind his dark mask. “ _No_.” He manages to get past his lips, “Mission first. Get the files.” He presses down harder on his bleeding neck.

Wally stares at him as if he’s just lost his mind and replies in a broken voice, “ **Dude** , you just got infected. We need to get you to safety.”

He harrumphs when Artemis’ elbow nudges him sharply in the ribs, “It’s  _still_  daytime. We have no idea how quick the changing process is.” She turns to Kaldur, “Miss Martian should stay with him. We’ll get the documents necessary and,” This time her gaze rests on Conner, “Someone should contain the freakzoid that bit him. He certainly looks like an advanced case.”

Bloodshot eyes regard the speaking blonde curiously; the man looks like a mess with his unruly black thinning hair, snow-white skin and long nails. He’s suspiciously thin, flesh stretched tight over bones and the sharpness of his cheekbones remove the focus on his hollow cheeks. He lets out a howling sound from a raspy dry throat. Conner glares promptly at him in return and harshly kicks him to the side, effectively knocking him out. He lies slumped in the net on the dirty tiles.

Artemis blinks  _slowly_  before eventually turning to Kaldur again, “ _So_ , the files, right?”

He looks exasperated for a brief second, clenches and unclenches his fists and nods to their archer. “Let’s move quickly.”

Kid Flash snaps his goggles in place and speeds through the pitch-black corridor, not bothering to wait for Kaldur and his flashlight. He goes through the first room on touch only, feeling the mold and dust on old wooden desks, the shapes of glass beakers and test tubes, the metal of scalpels, surgical saws and hatchets, and in his desperateness he knocks down a standing clothing peg.

“ _Wait up_ , Baywatch!” Artemis reprimands loudly from somewhere behind him, her voice accompanied by a circular light, branding him mid-motion and casting his silhouette against the dirty wall.

He throws a challenging look over his shoulder, “Hurry up, then! We need to save Rob!”

In an empty room with cobwebs decorating the corners and blood crusting the floor like rust, they find shelves full of musty binders, containing pages of typewriter Russian. His cupper brows furrow together when he thumbs through them and motions for Aqualad to take a look at them as well. Kaldur regards them and gestures to Artemis, Conner and Wally to take everything with them.

"Each page may contain something valuable." He declares and starts amassing three or four large binders in his own arms. There are approximately fifteen binders, plus a few loose papers fallen to the ground underneath the shelves. Artemis suppresses a grimace when she notices the dried bloody fingerprints on them.

_[…] Day twenty-five: we’ve been analyzing the blood samples of client SR-589-997 to record any possible mutation. His countenance has been reason for some concern amongst the elder nurses. They suspect he might be suffering from anemia but his hemoglobin levels are the exact same as before he participated to the experiment. His skin tone must be a side-effect from the mixture infused with_ _Diaemus youngi DNA_ _we’ve injected into his bloodstream. Client SR-574-368 has expressed her desire to turn off the lights in her cell at all times. The veins in her sclera are heavily swollen, which might be detrimental to the overall result of this experiment. Client SR-568-997 has also expressed similar desires yesterday but has committed suicide over the night. He has left muddled writing in blood behind. Cleaning crew 3B has proceeded to make the premises sterile again for the next batch of Belarusians next week.[…]_

Robin, yowling and blindfolded, batters against the glass of his observation cell and Wally tries to fool himself into thinking that his snow-white skin is  _an optic trick_  provided by the harsh, unforgiving artificial lights and not caused by the pure poison rushing through his veins, which was obtained when the advanced case at the facility nearly tore his throat apart. Batman is standing on his right, listening attentively to the doctor’s constant stream of medical knowledge and though the speedster can understand multiple terms, the whole picture remains forever out of his reach. He supposes this is what the stage ‘ **denial** ' feels like. After a while, a heavy hand comes to press down on his shoulder and he forces himself to look at his best friend's adoptive father, at the grim sternness of his visible jaw and the unwavering white glass shielding his emotive eyes.

"He’s rejected the blood from the IV." There’s a hard edge to his voice, raw anger trickling through the stoic façade he tries to sell to the world.

Wally merely chokes, as if the words spoken from Batman’s mouth were being crammed down his throat. “Does that…” He tries when he’s regained his breath, “Does that mean he’s going to die?”

His hand is gone abruptly, as if the statement burned through the enforced black glove. “No. I refuse to let that happen. I’ve got Lucius working day and night on the documents, searching for a possible solution. I’m combing through every report. We will save him.” He isn’t even looking at the speedster anymore, just staring through the looking glass at his ward.

Wally nods, feeling stupid for even doubting the man in front of him, or the boy inside the observation cell. “I know, I’m sorry Bats.. I mean, Batman. _AhfuckI’m **sodumb** andyouguysareso **tough** …”_

This draws a tired but genuine smirk on the Dark Knight’s lips, “We have  _reason_  to believe your DNA could withstand the infection. You could try to visit him.” He steadies himself, all business again, “But be on your guard.”

Giving a half-hearted salute, Kid Flash says, “Yes sir.”

_[…] Day three-hundred forty-six: We’ve been forced to exterminate half of our clients, they have been responding negatively to the treatment. Their stomachs cannot hold any substances any longer than five minutes before they violently vomit everything back up. We’ve caught client SR-589-997 drinking the blood from deceased client SR-624-368 and spatting out parts of her external jugular vein. Nurse Y. Braginski suffered from a stroke at the sight and has been sent to the medical bay immediately. Client SR-589-997 has been shot in the head and buried outside of facility building B. Most of the latest clients seem to reject food and opt instead either to drink the gravy from their dinnertime meat or to stop eating all together. No clients can stand the light anymore, whether natural or artificial. We’re losing hope on the success of this experiment and debates are going on whether to kill the remaining clients or not. We will send additional comments to Moscow at 8:00. […]_

"Dick." He’s reduced to whispering in case the wiring of the observation cell picks up the more private parts of their conversation.

Robin responds with a tilt of the head; his mask has been removed and replaced by a bandaged blindfold to filter out the lights. He makes a whining sound at the back of his throat, low and restless. The boy has been ruthlessly picking apart the skin stretched over his knuckles, leaving angry red marks and brownish cupper crusts.

Wally decides to be bold and places his palm flatly over the younger boy’s hand. This causes his friend to stumble upright again, closer to the redhead and the divine scent of _liveliness_  he’s transmitting. Absentmindedly, the elfin mauve tip of his tongue sweeps over his white teeth. “Kid Mouth.” He says happily, trying to ignore the hunger gnawing his stomach to crumbles of flesh, “Do you have  _some food_  for me, by any chance?”

Hating to disappoint him, the redhead tries to divert his attention by carefully rubbing cool, pale skin with the plush-pad of his thumb. “I aced my Physics test a few days ago, Artie told me it wasn’t anythin’ special but it was,  _'cause it's an AP class_  and  **really** cool. M’gann would’ve been happy for me, but she’s working in some weird Chinese place.. _Manjou_.. Or something? My pronunciation sucks, dude. And Conner has been sulkin’ all friggin’ week cause his girlfriend is eating with chopsticks somewhere around the globe. Kaldur has been tryin’ to console …”

His pupils dilate when Dick slides closer, over the thin mattress and its listless sheets, into the warmth of Wally’s chest. “I’m  _so hungry_ , Walls.” He wails helplessly, “So hungry. How can _you_  live like this?” He repeats in emphasis, while the frozen button of his nose drags an invisible line along the redhead’s neck. “This is leavin’ me gruntled. Heavy…” The heat of his breath nestles itself on his skin, “On the **dis**..”

"I.. This is wrong.. Rob, please stop.  _You’re freaking me out_.” He tries to back up but every inch won is an inch inevitably lost as the Boy Wonder mimics his every step.

He can clearly imagine those clear blue irises behind the blindfold, morphing into thin icy rings around sable pupils to show his displeasure.

Robin whines desperately, “I  _need to eat_. Please, Wally. Please, I’m going  **mad**  here.” -And he is, he can’t remember the last time he had something solid in his stomach, what cereal tastes like, what chicken tastes like, what _satisfaction_  feels like. All he knows is this relentless hunger metaphorically devouring him from the inside out and he needs slick blood trailing down his esophagus to keep his body functioning. He visibly cringes.

It’s a small victory when Wally manages to wrench himself from the vice like grip on his wrist. He’s at the door in the blink of an eye, but refrains from pushing the code of the numeral lock when he sees how his best friend starts to sob violently. He curls into himself, hugging his knees and pressing his forehead against them. At a loss, the redhead slumps against the metallic door and lets out a frustrated huff.

He’s going to regret this, the speedster thinks to himself as he jolts forwards again, in the direction of his infected friend, but Robin’s sanity is worth it. Robin is worth every stupid thing he’s going to do.

**_[…] ALERT. META-HUMANS ARE SUSCEPTIBLE FOR THE DISEASE. I REPEAT. META-HUMANS ARE SUSCEPTIBLE FOR THE DISEASE. ALE-[…]_ **

Wally has  _always_  been hungry, but this type of starvation is a novelty. It  _crushes_  his insides like a batch of bricks. He stopped relying on his sight, having figured out soon it is but a nuisance in the presence of light. Dick presses a soft kiss on a patch of skin underneath the shell of his ear.

_"I smell I smell what you don’t smell."_  He taunts from behind him, lips dry like sandpaper, chaffing against periwinkle pale skin .

He sniffs in the humid air and lets out a content ‘ _aah_ ’. Wally chuckles, even though his stomach is burning up from the lack of sustenance. “Does it start with a  _'d'_?”

They’re in the middle of Arkansas, it wasn’t their place of preference, but they’re hunting and being hunted at the same time so preferences are rendered useless. After three months in quarantine, the disease has spread to the other continents as if it was a trace of dandelion, picked up idly by the wind. In an act of pure despair, the UN has decided that all contaminated cases were to be quarantined upon sight and if the afflicted refused to cooperate,  _extermination_ , or a sugar-coated term at least, was preferred. Of course, this decision lead way to confusion and easy killing. Allegedly, Black Canary, Zatara, Artemis and the Huntress were afflicted and contained, together with the already confirmed Green Arrow. Wally and Dick managed to escape during a riot caused by Black Canary’s sonic attack. Loyalty has no meaning when there are bellies to be filled. 

Dick hums pleasantly, “ _Maybe_.” His voice is pricked through by thrumming anticipation.

"Is it dinner, perhaps?" Wally coos, allowing the heavily perfumed scent of a back alley junkie seep into his nostrils.

There’s no reply, only a quick tug and a battle plan ingrained in their brains. Ever since Kid Flash was infected, they’ve stuck together, resorted to drinking their own blood if necessary to ensure their survival and coiled into each other when the lights were too bright and the spoils of scavenging were  _too meager. They’re hungry and hopeless, but a formidable team, always and ever._

_[…] Day four-hundred twenty-two: We’ve come to refer to the clients as vampires. They’ve killed three guards and bled them dry. We are busy evacuating all military and medical personnel. After the last cleaning crew has been removed from the premises, the extermination squad will kill the remaining vampires. We’ve received orders to omit information that client SR-524-997 has escaped, from our regular correspondence with the authorities in Moscow. In this cold, it is most likely that he will not get far, wildlife is hostile and the temperatures are dropping further each night. Mosco_  -the text abruptly stops, the rest of the page is covered in bloody fingerprints- […]


End file.
